


Those That Will Never Be

by The_Hunter_Nightingale



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Persona 5, Persona Series, RWBY, Twilight Series - All Media Types, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Different Take on Persona Formation, F/F, F/M, Female Midoriya Izuku, Gen, Graphic Description, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2019-11-01 20:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17874194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Hunter_Nightingale/pseuds/The_Hunter_Nightingale
Summary: Generally just a bunch of stories that I couldn't turn into full-length stories for one reason or another. Normal one-shots and such might appear here as well.More tags will be added each time this gets updated, so don't worry about it being exclusive to whatever tags show up, ok?





	1. Blood-Soaked And Wide-Eyed (Bloodborne/Twilight)

Forks…was boring.

That’s all there was to complain about really. The rain was good for keeping her skin from drying out – as vain as it sounds, skincare to a Hunter wasn’t necessarily important, but regardless she found herself caring for it all the same – and even when it wasn’t raining she had the sheer moisture in the air to keep her from crusting up and flaking all over the place; a thought that disgusted her more than she’d like to admit. Even if it _was_ impossible.

The rain was good music to her ears, if one disregarded her need to keep skin moist – even if it was a stupid notion, her purely black feathered garb doing well to keep the rain away – the feathers a natural waterproofing, she guessed one idle morning – and her beaked mask was never taken off, even in public. It helped that the incense stored in the beak protected her against the body odour of those walking about her.

Back to the sound of the rain – it nearly drowned out the many different whispers of the echoes she’d absorbed, not trying to free themselves, but to make themselves known; a song of groans and moans of the dead, those she’d released to the sky as was a Crow’s duty. Those she’d watched die before becoming a Crow Hunter.

The last Crow Hunter, a tale of tragedy. A tale of the caustic inability to save the one she cherished most – even if Eileen had made peace she, herself, had not.

Of course, when blood sang to her she answered with a dance – The Blades of Mercy were given to her by right of succession, of apprenticeship to the last Crow Hunter, and the best dancing partners she could ask for. Siderite was difficult to forge into trick weapons, let alone weapons at all, but somehow the metal of gods was bent to the will of some Crow Hunter a hundred-something years ago in a backwater village near Yharnam’s outskirts. How he’d found the secret she’ll never know, but she also knew Gehrman had his scythe-sword hybrid made from the stuff; and she also knew how sharp Siderite could be from first hand experience.

 When she showed up in this strange land filled with carriages that needn’t horses to move, and metal birds that swallowed people to travel from one area to another she thought it a strange version of the Hunter’s Nightmare she’d found Maria in. instead, she learned, that the world was indeed that – another world, separate from her own altogether and missing eldritch nightmares and eyes within minds, missing blood as a common substance that was outside bodies more than it was in, missing the Night of the Hunt.

Missing the paleblood moon that hung from the skies, as it always had since her first memories as a child.

No matter; she hadn’t expected much to happen save for the world to collapse upon itself when she killed The Moon Presence. She expected either that or rebirth as the new Host of the Hunter’s Dream. She expected to awaken with Annalise in Cainhurst, seeing the sun for the first time since she was twelve. She expected Gehrman’s scythe – now hers – to slowly absolve itself of its past and vanish with the collapsing Dream. She expected the Little Ones, the messengers, to bid her adieu and leave her be.  

She’d expected a lot of things.

She _didn’t_ expect to have her immortality taken from her, nor did she expected her agility, strength and stamina to increase tenfold. She _definitely_ didn’t expect her Echoes to start giving advice instead of the constant moaning and screaming they did – though, most of it came from Gascoigne and Maria, with little snippets from Ludwig and Henryk when the situation called for it. Rarely would she hear from Queen Yharnam, and she’d only heard from Gehrman once.

_“There…is no Hunt.”_

_“Yes, Gehrman, very astute”_ , had been Maria’s snipe back, Lawrence and Gascoigne laughing over the man’s grumblings. He was silent after that, but of course she knew he was there – he was her last human kill after all, so for him _not_ to be there was more worrying than him being there.

Speaking of this new world, she’d been in it for close to six months now; a strange land that spoke a rudimentary and – quite frankly, with Gascoigne and Maria agreeing – primitive version of her own sophisticated language. Hell, even Arianna, The Woman of Pleasure, had better literacy than most of this time! Their clothing, too, was strange and odd to her – so used to Cainhurst’s lavish style and Yharnam’s intricate but simple designs that these new clothing styles threw her through multiple loops at once. At what point in this world’s time had clothing styles devolved from classy and professional to ‘skinny jeans’ and practically walking around in underwear?!

No matter, this world’s clothing styles – strange or no – were things she’d never change into. For formal events, such as her knighting at Cainhurst, she’d simply wear Lady Maria’s garb. For informal events…probably the same thing, actually – the clothing of this world was _that_ bad.

If she were to walk around as she is, however, it would signify a Hunt – not of the paleblood moon or of Nightmares, but of animals, humans…other beings.

While this world didn’t have the Beast Scourge it _did_ have something akin to men that shifted into wolves by the light of a full moon – apparently hunted to near-extinction, with how rare they were, but regardless they were prey and she the predator. There were others she hunted, as was a Hunters duty – witches that preyed on small children, man-eating monsters of taut skin and teeth on their bellies, succubae that tempted men and women alike into an hour of bliss to die seconds later.

It was a world of monsters and she, a monster herself, will hunt the others to keep the men safe.

A monster saving men? How backwards, yet it was her contractual duty. _‘A Hunter is a Hunter, be they beast or men’_ , a line of the contract she’d signed in her blood before awakening to the Hunt.

Eileen had an… _interesting_ addition to the contract that she’d remind her of whenever the chance arose.

 _‘A Hunter is a Hunter, be they beast or men…of beasts or men’_.

A description most agreeable with, what with her current situation.

Looking through the crowd of humans that stared after her when she strode through this strange town, she saw weakness and frailty; something any Yharnamite would have shunned and cast aside – but she was no Yharnamite, and so she’d protect these people.

Protect them when they can’t protect themselves. Protect themselves of those that would do them harm and mislead them from whatever path they have chosen for themselves – be it to turn into a beast, trade their souls for power with the devils that lived amongst them, becoming food for a hungry predator, immortality, servitude…she’d keep them safe.

And so, with swiftness belying her craft she moved through the crowds to the woods that surrounded a large portion of Forks.

There were beasts to hunt.

 


	2. Lavender and Velvet (Persona 5/RWBY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written a couple of years ago, so my writing may not be as refined as it is now. This was written with the alternate gender look found in the official artwork for Persona 5, so while it might not be canon it certainly was going to be considered for it.

“Lavenza?”

There was no answer to her question. Nothing but an eerie silence that made her feel sad and unhappy, rather than creeped out. Silence in the Velvet Room was never a good thing. But there was something more important to think about; something that needed addressing.

The voice was gone.

The voice was always there within the Velvet Room inside her mind; always there to help. It had been two voices when she first arrived here in Tokyo, and while as silent as she was attending Shujin Academy, they were vocal when the sun went down.

One with barely held-back maliciousness. Sadistic tendencies made up a majority of the small girl’s personality, but the rest was what Ryuji would describe as ‘classic Tsundere’. At first, she’d become confused as to what that meant exactly, but as her bonds grew and her understanding of the world expanded she’d become knowledgeable in reading people. The very first thing she read of Caroline was that she was embarrassed to be soft; especially in front of Igor and Justine, but whether the two noticed and cared or not was up for debate.

The other part of the voice, the one that compiled her Personas into a logically needed compendium, was a quiet thing with logical thinking overruling emotions. An inquisitive little creature with a mind of infinite possibilities and knowledge of things even Igor wasn’t privy to. The first to notice that two Attendants made little sense for one ‘prisoner’, the first to notice the odd way in which the compendium was written and worded, the first to voice her opinions of herself. Caroline was her sister’s opposite yet, without one, the other could not be; the other would be incomplete, and yet in the first place they were never whole. They were, as the letters on their hats would infer, an oxymoron.

From the beginning of her journey to the here-and-now, Caroline and Justine, and to an extension Yaldabaoth had been guiding her towards ‘rehabilitation’. What said ‘rehabilitation’ entailed was lost to even the twins, but when Yaldabaoth, as the Holy Grail, told her – even if it was in a roundabout way that left the noggins of Ryuji and Morgana shaking – she’d suddenly understood.

The rehabilitation she underwent was not for her, but humanity as a whole; to see if the race of humans could stand up to that of gods as they did in the past, to see if their will was as strong as her own, to see if bonds prevailed through thick and thin.

It was unfortunate really that humans could choose and instead not have things chosen for them. In her opinion a world such as that would be ideal – no one would worry about choosing sides when the side was chosen for them, no would need to fear making the wrong decisions when the decision wasn’t there’s to make. A guilt free world where no one had to choose, though, sounded like something Yaldabaoth expected to come of his demise – unfortunate for him that the world just reverted to normal. Just kept spinning its regular orbit and ignoring everything else that happened to it in the past

And thus the crux of the matter – normal wasn’t what she felt right now, while everyone around her seemingly reverted back to their post-Phantom Thieves stages in life; Ryuji was cursing out the education system while barely passing his exams, Ann was modelling in different parts of Tokyo, Makoto had just finished school and was attending numerous criminal psychology courses before college, Haru had now fully devoted her time to opening a chain of cafes in the name of her late grandfather, Morgana was staying with Yusuke, and Yusuke had taken on being a full-time artist. There were others she was forgetting – but not because she wanted to. More of because she didn’t want to. Her memories of those that she hadn’t spent much time with were slowly slipping.

This was, after all, the Velvet Room; this was a place that existed between dream and reality, mind and matter, fiction and fact. A place that lived in limbo and relished in the oddities it brought. The Velvet Room was a world in and of itself, existing in a world that didn’t exist, a state of being that was practically corporeal. It being the Velvet Room shouldn’t cause her memories to slip, but she’d been here for days, weeks on end after defeating Yaldabaoth.

Again, not because she wanted to. The world outside has changed – people don’t know she exists, have no recollection of their interactions or previous relations; the metaverse was gone, the Velvet Room being sustained only by the remnants of Igor’s powers and her own Trickster abilities coming into play – she was, by design, a Joker after all. A Fool, with the ability to change fate itself to suit her needs.

She needed to see the voice one last time; her guidance in the world, her best friend, sister in all but blood; and even then, as the Wildcard, she could probably make that happen. But she’d settle for Lavenza being back in her head again – the outside world was not ready for someone like Lavenza, after all. Then again, it wasn’t ready for her either.

The black emptiness that surrounded the Velvet Room was visible now, encroaching ever slowly, steadily breaking down her desire for it to remain; it wasn’t hers to know whether or not the room was supposed to stay or not when the metaverse vanished; it was not her concern though. Her power worked on her best interests. Or, at least, the Wildcard power held the ability to defy whatever fate she felt was unjust.

Staring into the abyss she saw nothing stare back; a shame, it would have made things a little more interesting for her final minutes alive. Now she would die alone, with no reason to continue living, and nothing to do.

No, not alone; this she knew.

_“Persona.”_

First the sound of chains, subsequently followed by the sound of laughter; subdued as it was. After all, Personas were the inner self, and while she had many thanks to her ability, Arsene reflected herself to the point of mimicry sometimes. His red hue glowed with ethereal blue, a sheen of blue fire surrounding his summoning. The chains that followed him snapped, their shards turning to ashes beneath the flames that writhed around him.

“A flair for dramatics?”

Arsene seemed to give off a snort, his head bowing low to look her in the eyes; dead as they were, they hid her true ‘windows to the soul’ – of course Arsene knew this, knew how to decipher the blank stare and see what lay beneath. As did all her Personas.

His eyes wreathed in flame sparkled with mischief.

“ **I Am Thou…** ”

She rolled her eyes but played along anyway; at least her end would be filled with melancholic humour, instead of silence.

“…Thou Art I.”

His permanent grin seemed to shift to something as little bit softer, a smile meant for her and her alone, meant to radiate his undying love and loyalty – as all Personas in her collection felt towards her. But Arsene was special, the first she had and something of a novelty; there were thousands of each different type of Persona, but there was only one of him.

There was silence for a moment, in which Arsene manoeuvred himself behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder in support.

The darkness spread throughout the Velvet Room slowly, its’ ceilings and walls disappearing readily, with the small desk that ‘Igor’ used to sit at remaining, along with a small patch of ground next to it that she stood on.

She was not scared; merely tired, and the chair looked oh-so pleasant. Its brown leather looked inviting, the dark blue hues it was giving off like a siren’s call to a sailor at sea. Igor was gone, the world was blackening around her and nothing in the real world remembered her anymore – she’d be surprised if her parents did, so ready to throw their daughter into the heart of Tokyo for saving someone. The blackness surrounding her reflected her feelings; slowly being overtaken by a wave of guilt, self-hatred and loneliness.

The chair looked even more inviting after that.

It was a nudge by Arsene that moved her though, and her hand stroked the edge of the chair – ‘soft’ could only describe it. No wonder ‘Igor’ liked to sit in the chair a lot. But that didn’t matter. Carefully she lowered herself into the embrace of the chair ‘Igor’ was so fond of sitting in, and as soon as she was settled in and melting into the softness, a voice tinkled in her head.

A butterfly flew past her eyes.

Lavenza.

The beautiful fusion of Caroline and Justine.

The attendant that learned to love without any ulterior motives, unlike her ‘sisters’ in different Velvet Rooms. The attendant that managed to mean more to her than her entire group of friends and confidants combined.

_“You have taken up the chair.”_

She was tired now. The leader of the Phantom Thieves couldn’t see anything other than the desk in front of her and Arsene’s floating form. For once, she noted, the Persona had a small, sad frown on his face. It was likely because she’d been unable to fulfil her one wish, and instead sacrificed everything for humanity to save them.

_“The mantle is now yours.”_

Mantle of what?

 _“While this was an unexpected outcome, you_ are _the Wildcard.”_

Of course, she was. The Wildcard that saved humanity! The other Wildcards throughout history couldn’t compare to her – except maybe one, but he was still technically alive, just as a seal, not a person. How she knew this was of no consequence, but Personas knew more than they let on.

_“You shape fate to your whim.”_

Fate was simply a very straightforward guidebook; one she tossed out years ago. She never was good at following instructions, at conforming.

_“You bend rules.”_

At least she didn’t break them. She made sure no lasting effects would come of her rule-bending, and yet she also made sure that no negative effects would come of her meddling in the fragile system humans had created.

_“you are cruel on one hand…”_

She heard a giggle, high pitched and reeking of death, suffused with many a tortured soul’s scream. Red eyes and blonde hair with a devilishly childish grin held on lips of pure scarlet. Teeth sharpened to points, with a baby blue dress reaching slender ankles. A patchwork teddy bear with rips and stitched limbs clutched in a small hand, its arm only just scraping the floor beneath her.

Her face was otherwise childish, yet stoic – save the ear-splitting grin she held whenever fighting would occur. Her entire body bristled with the power of curses and darkness, her very being pulsing with the will to inflict horrible violence and death; all’s the more reason to keep Alice in her head unless direly needed, after all – she _was_ the Death Arcana.

_“…You are kind on the other.”_

A soft sigh entered her mind, the overwhelming feeling of peace and happiness stopped her from subconsciously tensing her muscles – she didn’t even realise she was on edge like that. She’d come to peace with her upcoming death, found it necessary for the world’s order to remain. Light flowed through her veins as she allowed this Persona to soothe her.

Gabriel always was a massive softie when she could afford to be. All her Personas were when it came to her – she was, after all, their saviour from enslavement to greedy Palace Owners, their giver of mercy when they pleaded for it, their seeker of revenge when they sought it against their human captors. When all was said and done her Personas were eternally grateful to her, and now that the other worlds and Velvet Rooms were gone from their access – possibly permanently – every Persona knew she was their saviour once again for simply housing them.

The light receded, and she slumped into the chair, her back sinking into leather. Arsene, out of the corner of her eye, gave her a somewhat-mocking bow and vanished in a puff of smoke and fire – again, he was a rather eccentric creature with a flair for dramatics.

The blue butterfly landed on the desk, a voice she knew to be Lavenza’s sounding from it, wings of cobalt blue slowing their flapping.

_“You are in pain once more.”_

She let out a dry laugh, one filled with tinges of dark undertones and sadness. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

The shadows surrounding her had stopped at the foot of the desk, the darkness behind her stopping its slow crawl up the sides of the chair. The softness of the chair was then accompanied by a slight flash of purple, the butterfly seemingly transforming into Lavenza in an instant.

The table in front of her was now gone, Lavenza taking its place. To be honest the desk was hideous anyway, no real purpose behind keeping it around could be seen and so she didn’t even blink when it was gone.

This, however happy she was, brought up the question that grounded her to what, exactly, was going on.

“How are you even here?”

Lavenza’s soft smile sprouted on her face and her own face felt some form of heat to it as a result, but thankfully the writhing shadows surrounding them both hid that well.

“I am here because I wish to be here.” She paused for a second, the compendium of Personas underneath her left armpit. “Also, because there is no use for a Wildcard without their Personas, no?”

She saw behind the lines, through the text, beyond what Lavenza was saying. “Your real reason?”

Lavenza’s smile seemed to expand a little. “I did not wish to serve Igor anymore. He has gone to a different time, different place once more and I wanted to see more of the potential humanity holds.” She stepped forth, leg after leg, until she arrived a mere foot away from the chair she was sat on. “I wished to serve you, who has taken up Igor’s mantle.”

Ah.

Now…now it all made sense. By sitting in Igor’s chair, with Igor no longer technically existing in this world, she had become Igor’s successor. Taking over his responsibilities – and what those were, she wasn’t sure of yet – and all the perks that came with the position became hers. When Lavenza took a step and situated herself by her side, compendium of Personas held within her left hand and her other resting on the edge of the head of the chair, she also knew that, somehow – whenever she left the Velvet Room – she wouldn’t be in Japan anymore. Possibly not even earth.

While saddened that her friends and family would never see her again and vice-versa, she was content knowing the world of Erth would stay free from tyranny and destruction. At least for a short while.

Whichever place they went, she knew Lavenza would be there.

That was enough for her.

* * *

The Velvet Room changed in the hundreds of years they remained inside, hidden away from the world; her duties as Igor’s successor reared their head as soon as the shadows vanished about fifty years in.

Her very existence kept the Velvet Room from disappearing again, and with Lavenza’s help they made sure each Persona under her control had somewhere to be – With the compendium acting as not only a list but a summoning matrix for each Persona inside, this was no less a challenge than writing a letter was.

Next came the maintenance of the new Velvet Room’s look – gone were the cells surrounding the desk in a circular fashion, twin wardens standing at attention and prison-esque stylisations around the walls. Gone were the barbaric means of fusion via execution and the gallows in which the act was to be performed. Gone was the desk of a prison overseer.

In place was a small room reminding her very much of the inside of a medieval castle. A large dining table with enough room to fit twenty stretched half the length of the Velvet Room, her desk replaced with a large wooden chair – carvings on said chair told many different stories, but she’d found them to be of no consequence to her. With her at the head of the table, Lavenza took her dutiful place at her side; compendium unchanged in looks and held beneath her elbow. Neither of them had changed all that much in the time they’d spent here; her hair had grown out longer, now reaching down to her waist rather than tickling the back of her neck; Lavenza changed the least, simply doing everything she would usually do were Igor here in place of her.

The only difference that she took note of in Lavenza was how…soft she’d become. It was almost as though she preferred the new arrangement in which Igor was no longer ‘in charge’ of her. She found herself making the comparison of a change in management – kind of like how Haru’s father died and left the company to a new person. At first that person was suspicious, but over time she and Haru both realised that all he wanted to do was right by the company and its employees. Except in this case she was the new boss and Lavenza was her only ‘employee’, so to speak; and neither had said anything to each other about her new position and title, but Lavenza seemed to be enjoying herself quite immensely.

Speaking of the blue themed girl, Akira turned to her with a small eyebrow raised when the small purple – almost corporeal – door that led from the outside world to the Velvet Room opened.

“I believe we have…guests?” Even she was confused. The Wildcard already existed – Akira, of course – and the Velvet Room only opened from the outside, or if they ever wished to leave. With them both there, however, witnessing the door open by an outside force, they could only guess that the Velvet Room was visible to everyone this time. No special required circumstances meant everyone was able to see and enter the Velvet Room, but if that was possible it also brought up the question.

Why did it take so long?

“Interesting…” Leaning in her chair she placed her hands, steepled beneath her chin, in a manner reminiscent of how Igor would sit. “…There appears to be a group of them, instead of one or two.” She turned towards Lavenza, who was equally as perplexed as she was. “Isn’t there supposed to be just one person?”

Lavenza hummed for a second before softly sighing and shaking her head. “I think I understand; you, the Wildcard, are the only one to ever contain the abilities of The Fool. With this in mind, each Wildcard has only ever existed once, and only in a different period of time, within a different dimension.”

Akira’s brain whirred at the implications; unlike how the Velvet Room usually acted, transporting Igor through space _and_ time, it only sent them through time. Or space, and she’s replaced whatever Wildcard that could have been. The very thought was ridiculous, and the very idea preposterous. Then she had to remind herself that the Velvet Room was exempt from the natural order and rules of things. It was a non-existence within a plane of existence, an anomaly, a paradox.

That made her a paradox too, but then again, she was the Wildcard – she was paradoxical in nature anyway.

“Wow look at this place!”

Their attention snapped towards the now-open door, six silhouettes standing against the light of the outside world. Seemingly varied in sizes, the smallest one of the six could be seen from their position at the head of the table, head swivelling around. The second smallest seemed to be admonishing the first, a strange sideways ponytail that made all the practical sense of a paper bag containing water on her head. The last one had hair that rivalled Akira’s own in length, with a blindingly bright golden sheen that made it hard to stare at for too long.

The last one just had her head buried in her book.

The fifth and sixth ones, presumably two adults, stepped forward first, allowing her to see faces of both wonder and caution. Grey hair in an unruly fashion not unlike her own, with eyes hidden behind slightly tinted spectacles that reminded her of when Kawakami would read to the class. He seemed to have a form of obsession with the colour green – but then again, Ryuji quite liked the colour orange, and Haru seemingly had an obsession for baby pink – and wore, from what she could see from this distance, a three-piece suit.

She didn’t get time to evaluate the other woman, however, as the team of four girls and two adults came to eventually find themselves at the bottom of the table; with her at the head and Lavenza at her side, fingers steepled beneath her chin and eyes shadowed by her hair, she made for an imposing figure that demanded respect.

She should hope so; as the new proprietor of the Velvet Room this was her world, these people her newest guests. Her only guests now that she thought on it, and six instead of one to boot; she can’t complain, as to her the best way to learn how to swim was by being thrown into the deep end. The same could be said for the rest of the Phantom Thieves, actually – each one earned their power through a test of emotional and physical constitution, with the lives of their team and friends on the line to motivate them even more. Each one tested through fire by being directly thrown into the flames head first, each coming out with a strong Persona and a changed look on things.

While she had spaced out, Lavenza had introduced herself and the area they had found themselves in, showing them to seats closest to Akira on the table but not close enough to be of any threat.

She focused her eyes on each one, hands still beneath her chin but eyes no longer shadowed by her hair. Igor was her predecessor after all, and she felt that – to succeed him – she needed to emulate him somewhat. While his strange ability to smile and talk at the same time would be lost to her, and his pointed nose would be something she would never be able to grow, she could take on his aloof and knowledgeable mannerisms.

Raising a hand past her chin, she gestured to the room around her, looking straight ahead but keeping an eye on them all. “Welcome to the Velvet Room; a space between realities, a dimension between fiction and fact, mind and matter.” She didn’t grin, her facial muscles so used to the blank  and stoic way she conducts herself that it would probably hurt to grin – especially as wide as Igor once had. Regardless of her lack of ‘Creepy Igor Grin™’, the way in which she conducted herself practically demanded that they not speak until she was done with introductions.

The little red one was busy eyeing up the velvet blue walls and ceiling, with the remnants of her prison cell resting in the far corner – it was a discovery that Lavenza found the answer to quite quickly: seeing as she was now ‘in charge’, but was also once a guest, the remnants of her previous ‘rehabilitation’ acted as her private room. Obviously, she’d replaced the prison cot with a soft bed and draped a velvet curtain over the bars to hide away the inside as a form of privacy, but other than that it was the same as when she first found herself within the room.

“My name is Akira.” Her raised hand once more dropped to beneath her chin, Lavenza standing next to her. She gestured to her with her head. “This is my assistant, Lavenza; she will help you with anything you may need.”

The silver haired man that seemed to be comprised of many different souls within himself rose an eyebrow, but it was the blonde one sat next to him that asked the question the children around them daren’t.

“What, exactly, is this place?”

In response, Lavenza answered for her. “This is the place my master created for the sole purpose of training and guiding the Wildcard, which unfortunately doesn’t seem to exist within this timeline.”

“’Master’?” It was the black haired one that spoke up, something hidden in her voice that the World Arcana helped her identify as bitterness. It was a strange reaction for her to witness, and even stranger than the girl didn’t seem to understand that she was in a pocket dimension that technically didn’t exist. It was almost like the conversation didn’t phase her and the simple connotation behind what being a ‘master’ could mean set her on edge.

Looking at everyone in the room only the two adults seemed to be unaffected by her words – her and Lavenza not withstanding of course. It seems that not only the black haired one was affected by the hidden meaning behind ‘master’, or at least what they saw as the hidden meaning. She had to give it to the black haired one – even though she was assuming things based on the very little words spoken by the Velvet Room pair, she was allowing them to explain or deny any claims to actual ownership.

The blonde one…not so much. “’Master’? like…like she _owns you_ or something?!”

Akira noticed the girl’s eyes turned red during her little emotional outburst, and while she was slightly interested, she found it to be nothing special – when the Phantom Thieves would sprint through Mementos or traverse the Palaces of corrupt adults, their clothing changed, and their eyes distorted to a soft red glow. The girl’s eyes were a bit of a deeper shade of red than theirs were, but overall it was nothing to be concerned or amazed about.

The fire that seemed to spawn around her in little waves, however, was something to keep an eye on – was she able to use fire magic? No…it didn’t feel like magic – it must be something else, then.

The feeling she got from it though was eerily similar to that of a Persona…

While Lavenza explained the system of master and assistant to the six people, Akira’s near-infinite patience was waning, even if ever-so-slightly. These people barge into her home and demand explanations of things they knew nothing about, accuse her of common slavery and then get confused about the place they had rudely barged into? She was just a little bit peeved, to be honest, but it must have shown on her face for the silver haired one shook his head in a manner reminiscent of apologetic.

Lavenza was mid-speech about the Velvet Room’s origins and who created her when Akira silenced her. “Lavenza.”

She was at Akira’s side in a second, a look of curiosity on her face. “Yes, master?” Her soft voice soothed her slightly, but she was still annoyed. “Is there something the matter?”

Akira simply shook her head, placing both hands on her lap instead. “No, but we shouldn’t reveal too much to our guests when we do not even know their names.”

She seemed to understand immediately. “Ah, of course.” She turned to them all, each one having calmed down after the…misunderstanding, from earlier. She bowed her head slightly, eyes scanning them all quickly. “I apologise, but may we trouble you for your names?” A second of silence before she raised her head from its bowed state. “And your titles, if at all possible.”

To both of their surprise it was the silver haired one that spoke.

“I am Professor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy.” The velvet Room Host and Attendant were both confused at the title and name of the school but held it in well enough to not be picked up by the ‘headmaster’. “Across from me is my assistant Glynda” – the woman bowed her head in greeting – “and those four are team RWBY.”

Each one, when they were introduced, greeted them in a different way – Ruby waved excitedly while ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’ at everything around her, Weiss was a little more refined and bowed her head slightly in a way that reminded her of Haru, Blake looked over the top of her book cover while giving a rather bland and uninspiring “Hello” while Yang saw fit to wiggle her fingers in some sort of wave.

The red one, Ruby, didn’t seem excitable, but rather seemed to be somewhat clueless of her situation – it must have been because the girl probably didn’t listen to her introduction on where they were, what the Room was and who, exactly, Akira was. Weiss on the other hand seemed to have soaked it all up and was thinking of many different scenarios – probably in case things went against them or turned in a way they didn’t agree with. Blake took it all in but didn’t really seem to care, and Yang just ignored most of everything anyway, from what Akira could see, so she probably didn’t really take enough in to understand much of anything. She still seemed to be understanding of her surroundings, though, and Akira could at least respect that.

All in all, they didn’t impress her, but she kept her thoughts to herself; if there’s one thing she learned from Yaldabaoth it was that all humans had the potential to be something great if they put their minds and hearts to it. These girls had spunk, they had heart, but until they got a hold of their motivations and their will to continue in the face of adversity they would be nothing more than humans with potential.

Back to the matter at hand – she’d never heard of this ‘Beacon’ place, and evident by Lavenza’s face neither had she. Lavenza turned to her and Akira gave her a subtle, small nod; indicative of permission to ask any questions she felt would help them both.

Akira, on the other hand, was simply the host – while it was her job to host these people and provide any and all forms of aid within her power, she could not do that with the limited information she possessed of the world and inhabitants she now existed in. as the host, she leaned back and allowed her assistant to do all of the talking – as Igor had done multiple times before, and it seems Lavenza didn’t really have an issue to be the one to interact with the guests.

The thing that also limited her was her lack of abilities ranging beyond that of Personas – magic, like Agi, Zio, Bufu spells and the likes were hers to command, but they were hers and hers alone – gifts she could not give out. Her role as host to the Velvet Room was unclear at this point, but she knew she’d at least try to help out – it was in her nature, and most likely job description, after all. Seeing, however, that this world might not even have Personas and magic, she was rather confused as to _how_ , exactly, she could help them as her rightful duty of Velvet Room host – for now, though, she’d sit back and process any gathered information.

“If I may ask?” Ozpin nodded, his posture a mix of both relaxed and alert. “What exactly does Beacon teach?”

Ozpin blinked for a minute as RWBY went silent at the question. It was Ruby who got over her stupor first, owlishly large eyes staring at Lavenza with disbelief. “You…you’ve never heard of Beacon?”

Lavenza simply tilted her head, before opening her compendium and moving past the rather large section that held Akira’s Personas. Beyond that was a small area dedicated to general knowledge, things that would be needed to help better explain things to any guest she was to help host. It also helped her learn more about Akira – when she was still two twin wardens, that is.

After searching through the book, she was convinced that Beacon was some place previous compendium users had not yet come across – Margaret hadn’t ever mentioned it, either, and to her knowledge Elizabeth only stuck around the time-frame of that ‘Minato’ fellow. Again, this meant something rather disturbing to her – they had gone so far forward in time that neither her previous master nor siblings had documented it. So far in time that the world was an unknown; that academies rose and fell, professions lost and found…it was rather disturbing.

“No.”

Ruby seemed to gasp in pure shock, while Weiss simply stared at both her and Akira, Blake simply lifting an eyebrow and Yang looking as shocked as Ruby – for some reason it was evidently a big deal. She didn’t look to see what her master thought of this, but by the glance to her right she could see Akira deep in some sort of troubled contemplation.

“Beacon Academy is a school that teaches humans-”

“-And Faunus-” Blake cut in.

“-To battle the creatures of Grimm. Do you know what Grimm are?” At The shake of her head, Wiess gave Lavenza a long look before continuing. “The creatures of Grimm…”

Lavenza opened her compendium and began to record these events within the pages – this information was on a time in the planet’s life-cycle that humanity seemed to split into two categories of species instead of race, and creatures known as Grimm dominated a lot of the known world. Hunters were people with an ability known as a Semblance, a unique power only available to them, while Aura was a manifestation of the soul brought out to shield them.

…this immediately told her that Personas no longer existed – that humanity had forgotten its legends and myths, its gods and demons. That humanity no longer wished to rebel against chains and instead wore them proudly. This was a disturbing predicament indeed, but a glance at the compendium told her that her beloved master’s Personas and abilities would still be accessible to her.

Akira sat in her chair, tired from these events but hiding it well; across from her sat the Headmaster, seemingly wetting his lips every now and then, the tell-tale signs of a man with nothing to drink. The woman he was with seemed exasperated by the situation, but nevertheless confused and interested in equal measure.

She turned to them, and instead found herself with two steeled faces; questions clearly on their minds and some form of guilt behind the look.

“So…who are you?” It was Ozpin that asked the question, Glynda staring with some iota of curiosity.

Akira’s eyebrow lifted, her confusion present for the first time since they had entered the room. “I believe I told you who I am.” They both stared, so Akira sighed. “My name is Akira, The Host of the Velvet Room of which you are currently seated in. I-”

“That’s not what we meant.” Glynda seemed to glare at her, Akira in clear confusion as to why, but not annoyed in the slightest –if she got annoyed at a simple glare she’d be no better than Ryuji and his hair-trigger temper, lack of discipline and…loud, _very loud_ , mouth. Instead, she sat back in her chair, hands once again steepled beneath her chin. “What are your _goals_ here?”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me since this conversation started, Miss Glynda.” Akira’s steepled fingers tightened ever so slightly, the power to call forth her Persona resting at the back of her mind. These people were powerful and as much as it pained her to admit, Arsene would not be enough. Yoshitsune would be more than enough to deal with them all should the need arise, and Lavenza was no push over.

That Ozpin man though…based on her earlier assumptions he did, indeed, house many souls – hundreds, if not thousands. It was unnerving to find a man that resembled a Wildcard yet wasn’t one. After all, Akira herself housed multiple Personas and Personae were simply the inner you’, as Morgana had put it once, given thought and shape. They were manifestations of the soul’s inner desire to break free of the chains that sought to bind them, of weakness that sought to exploit them.

This man, though, wasn’t just housing the souls – he was _made_ of them. He _was_ those souls, each and every iteration taken over by his own soul and merged into it.  It was, to a Trickster, sickening – to see someone so freely take over the souls of others for their own gain of immortality reminded her of why the Phantom Thieves even existed in the first place.

He didn’t feel evil, however – or, at least, not at first glance.

Akira leaned back in her chair, the leather flattening around her. Her hands went to her lap, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Lavenza smiling at the group of four that came with the two adults – the two adults that were now questioning her for reasons unknown about things she didn’t really understand.

“I think you should elaborate on your questions, Headmaster.” Akira, for emphasis, huffed in slight indignation. “I, as the host of the Velvet Room, have explained to you all I know and can – the least you could do is return the courtesy.”

He seemed to look at her for a second – _really_ look at her – and conceded to her point with a bow of the head. She’d been nothing but forward and blunt with them, so he’d extend the same courtesy; she’d asked for it.

“How aligned are you with Salem?”

Akira blinked, her eyes slightly squinted in confusion and her left eyebrow raising.

“Who?”


	3. Dead Stars, And A Galaxy Of Eyes (My Hero Academia)

Her eyes were the only signs she contained a mutation quirk. No skin changing into pigments thought to exist only in fantasy novels or games. No bones jutting this way or that, some spiked into horns, others resending nothing a human could think up. No flames licking her skin or ice misting around her body, no water dripping from her pours. No shark head or cat's tail or bird wings or even slightly different textured skin - normal, save for her eyes.

 

"She's...well." The 'quirk doctor' coughed into a hand, eyes hidden behind shades as he stared at the impassive girl before him. He couldn't hold her gaze. "She's, uh, got a mutation quirk."

 

Inko wrung her hands together in a tell-tale sign of nervousness - he didn't even bother registering that her child's face had not once changed from its impassive, almost apathetic state. Her eyes - they grabbed him, knowledge dripping from her as they ushered his mind to open, _'I know all' they said, 'I have seen all and I am left wanting'_ \- he locked eyes with her mother again. "How can you tell? Mutations are usually easily visible from birth right? S-so what if you're wrong? What if my poor Izumi is q-q-quirkless?"

 

He understood her fear. Twenty percent of all beings could be classed as quirkless now - staggeringly low compared to just a hundred years ago, where the twenty percentile were the majority. Now, seen as inferior and lowly, quirkless people no longer ruled as the dominant species. They were outcasts in many areas, never able to find work in some - unfortunately - common cases of quirkless discrimination. The twenty percentile, nothing more than the weight dragging down the rest of the world. Useful if only for mundane chores - policing, nursing, cleaning and engineering, civil service and other chores. Things no self respecting quirk holder of the modern day would deal with.

 

Mostly because of pride, misplaced as it often was, but the point stood. 

 

No one wanted a quirkless child.

 

In this Age of Heroes, to be quirkless was to be seen as useless. To not have that genetic marker granting you anything that set you apart from the normal humans was a sin in society's eyes.

 

"I'm quite sure..." He was more confused as to how Inko Midoriya had not noticed her daughter's eyes yet. Four years and she comes to him questioning such a thing? The odd colouration of the girl's eyes should have given it away at birth. If not that, then the mere way she stood - the way she held herself was unearthly, and in all of his years of diagnosing quirks he'd never seen anything like it.

 

Izumi Midoriya had, somehow, kept hidden a mutation quirk from birth, from her own mother...for four years - presumably under constant scrutiny by said mother. 

 

It boggled the mind - but he felt it well within his right to ask a question of his own. "Has Your daughter - Izumi - done anything...strange?" At Inko's confused stare he felt the need to elaborate. "Any behaviour changes? Sudden shifts in attitude? Anything out of character for her?"

 

Inko shot her answer out almost instantly - not a lie, then, no matter how odd it sounded. "No, she's always been this..." Her mother glanced down at Izumi, before averting her gaze as the girl's eyes locked with Inko's. "...docile." It was finished as a lazy answer, but the doctor couldn't blame her. Even he couldn't come up with a word for Izumi's current state. "She's always been quiet, not shy just..."

 

"Apathetic?" He threw out, hoping it was the word she was looking for. Otherwise they'd both be puzzling over the jigsaw that is Izumi Midoriya. 

 

"...I suppose so."

 

He sighed. 'Might as well ask the girl if she has any idea what her quirk is beyond creepy-looking eyes'.

 

"So, Izumi, do you have any idea what your quirk is?"

 

Without hesitation, a blank, monotonous reply was given. "Yes. I see dying stars."

* * *

 

Her eyes were galaxies, she'd once been told. Swirling masses of tiny specks, motes of light drifting in a void of dark purple and black. Tiny stars orbiting other tiny stars orbiting her pupil - of which was just a black hole of nothingness, emptiness given form save for a tiny, punctuation mark-sized speck of light in the centre.

 

Her eyes were not just galaxies. They _saw_ galaxies. They saw _everything_. Everything from now to a hundred years from now. Everything from yesterday to tomorrow. From a mile away to a hundred miles away. As far back as humanity's dawn, to as far forward as humanity's end.

 

Her eyes weren't _just_ galaxies, because to insinuate such was nothing more than a lie - her eyes were so much more. After all, how can a galaxy see?

 

She stared at her classmates - the one to her left, a boy with a deterioration quirk, would become a villain that would one day threaten the world - and thought nothing kind or unkind. They were there, and they acted like Izumi wasn't. That was fine, her eyes saw all, knew all, told her branching paths and the branches to those branches. She didn't even need to be in school, despite being only six years old. 

Her eyes told her the answers.

"Green, duh!" A classmate shouted - Katsuki Bakugou, a boy that would have tormented her to the brink of suicide had she not developed these stars in her eyes - and she knew the question was 'What is yellow and blue mixed together?'.

 

Her eyes showed her the answers to everything - she could be in a top-grade university performing the hardest examinations for some of the most delicate and difficult subjects and would have no peer in terms of completion rating.

 

But she followed this branch of time by sitting in this school, and then enduring highschool, until her inevitable application into U.A and her past classmates being forgotten.

 

After all, glancing around the room and measuring the class with her eyes, everywhere she looked all she saw were dying stars.

 


End file.
